


I'll Be Your End Of Days (Season Five)

by DeanGirl2Y5



Series: DeanGirl2Y5's Seasons of Supernatural [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Episode: s05e04 The End, Episode: s05e14 My Bloody Valentine, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Torture, Season/Series 05, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanGirl2Y5/pseuds/DeanGirl2Y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will (meaning Dean, Aline, Sam, and Cas) try to stop the Apocalypse.</p><p>(This is a series of one-shots from Season Five of Supernatural. From "Sympathy for the Devil" to "Swan Song." With some original fics thrown in, two taking place in Endverse. Story title is a line from "End of Days" by Jim Johnston AKA the theme song of The Corre and, later, Wade Barrett.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aline and Dean have a little chat at night time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and lyrics come from "Fading" by Decyfer Down. Enjoy!

Aline shot up in bed, biting her tongue hard to keep from screaming. She was trying to regain her breath as she tried not to cry, the images flashing in front of her eyes. The tears fell anyway, and she quickly got out of bed, stepping out of the cabin and quietly shutting the door behind her. She slid down the wall and just sat there, staring at the sky and letting the tears fall. It was a habit she had picked up two weeks after she arrived at Camp Chitaqua.

It was her way of coping with the nightmares and memories of her time in the Pit, and it was one of the only times when she could be alone with her thoughts, which sometimes was a bad thing. Whenever Cas was sober (and not conducting orgies), he’d offer to come with her when she wanted to spend time with her thoughts, but she refused, preferring to be left alone. It was how she had dealt with it after clawing her way out since she still refused to touch any form of alcohol or drugs.

“ _Wait, it’s all that I can take,”_ she sang softly, laying her forehead on her knees, _“and every single day, a part of my soul is fading. But now, by letting go somehow, unshackled and unbound…”_

“ _I’m calling out your name, I’m fading,”_ a familiar male voice finished, singing as well.

She didn’t even look up, knowing there was only one person (besides herself) who knew that song. “What are you doing up?”

“I should be asking you that question, don’t you think?” She heard him sit down next to her. “Everything okay?”

She looked up and over at the door, refusing to look at him and wiping her eyes. “I don’t see why that matters to you. After all, you treat me like I’m a freaking soldier. Hell, the only way you’ll talk to me anymore is when you’re giving me an order.” There was no hiding the hurt in her tone. “I bet the only reason you care is because this would effect my work or some stupid shit like that.”

It had been a year since she had clawed her way out of Hell, and her feelings for the man sitting next to her hadn’t changed in the slightest. Even if he didn’t talk to her like he used to, treating her like she was a soldier. She blamed herself for that, thinking that if she hadn’t gone back to the Pit he wouldn’t be acting like this. But she never said anything about it to anyone she trusted, not even Cas.

“You honestly think I don’t care anymore?”

She turned to face him for the first time that night, glaring at him with hurt hidden beneath the anger she felt. “It sure doesn’t seem like you do. I mean, you just order me around and give me random jobs to do. I’m sometimes tempted to just throw myself out to the Croats!”

He grabbed her wrist tight enough to bruise and looked her right in the eye, glaring right back as she flinched at his grip. “Don’t you _dare_ do that,” he growled. “Don’t even _think_ about doing that.” He stopped himself before he could say anything else. What else he wanted to say, she wasn’t sure.

“Give me one reason not to, Dean. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“We need you here, more than anyone actually wants to admit. Now, tell me what’s bugging you so much that you’re sitting out here.”

She looked up at the sky, no longer glaring at him. “Hell nightmares.”

“What?”

She clenched her fists, trying not to cry. “They did the same thing to me that they did to you, but they threw in hallucinations. You, Sam, and Cas. They… _made_ themselves look like one of you and ripped me apart, you more times than Sam and Cas. Eventually, they just disguised themselves as you, just you, and…” She shook her head, not wanting to bring _that_ up.

He didn’t say a word as she paused, wiping the tears that had escaped from her eyes.

“Then the deaths…I watched the three of you die _so_ _many_ _frigging_ _times_ in who knows how many ways.” Her voice cracked as she looked over at him again. “Wanna know the reason I actually say your name so much when you’re not looking at me?”

“Yeah.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and she could see the sadness in his eyes. “I’m damn curious.”

“It was another one of their hallucinations. You had your back to me, and I called your name, but you wouldn’t turn around, like you couldn’t hear me. I screamed, shouted, yelled until my voice was hoarse even. I did everything I could to get your attention, but you just wouldn’t turn around.” She felt the tears run down her face as she stared into his eyes. “I just wanted you to look at me. I didn’t care for how long. I just…” She laid her head on her knees again, sobbing. Suddenly, she felt him wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him, letting her cry into his chest and rubbing her back reassuringly. Just like he used to before the world went in the crapper.

After she calmed down, he gently grabbed her chin and made her look up at him, still keeping an arm wrapped around her. “I’m always gonna hear you, okay? No matter where you are, I’ll hear you. I promise.”

She reluctantly pushed herself away from him, looking away from his eyes. “Why? I practically left you alone, going back to Hell on my own when you told me not to!” She stood up and walked away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He caught up with her and stepped right in front of her, standing in her way. “Yeah, you’re right. You left. You promised me that you’d stick by me no matter what.”

“That’s why you should let me go.” Her voice cracked slightly, just slightly. She hoped he didn’t hear that.

The look on his face made her realize he had heard it. “I’m not letting you go. Ever. I’ve lost everything, Ally. Sam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Dad… _everyone._ Don’t make me lose you, too. We need you here.”

She nodded, and he pulled her close to him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. Just like he did days before she had gone to Hell.

“From now on, whenever you feel like this, just talk to me, okay? I know I’m not the poster child for this type of thing, but just do it for me. Even if you have to drag me away from talking to someone. Even if you’re working. Hell, even at night. I won’t yell at you, I promise.”

“Okay.” Her voice came out as a whisper as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “I promise.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes before he helped her back to her cabin and into bed. When he went to head back to his own cabin, Aline grabbed his wrist and gave him a pleading look.

Without saying a word, Dean climbed into bed with her. She pulled his arms around her and snuggled into his chest. His hand stroked her hair again as she fell asleep.


	2. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets Aline’s endverse counterpart and gets the shock of his life when he finds out what exactly happened to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second of the many updates for today. Anyway, this is told entirely from endverse!Aline’s POV and ends with a bit of fluff. I figured she and Dean would need it considering what happens before 2009!Dean shows up.
> 
> This is technically a prequel/sequel to "Fading" because that one takes place before 2009!Dean showed up.
> 
> Hope you like it!

Five months.

That was how long Aline hadn’t spoken a word. Or ate or drank without help. Dean had to practically force her, since she refused otherwise. As for speaking, she wrote notes or sent texts.

Still, she did help on hunts. She researched and helped take out different monsters.

Every night, Dean would climb into her bed and hold her close, thinking that she was asleep when she was very much awake. She couldn’t bear to fall asleep with those dark thoughts running through her mind. He would be gone before she woke up, of course. Just like after they both got out of Hell.

It was almost the same as then. Almost.

That night, there weren’t any hunts. So, the two of them, along with Castiel, were in their motel room. The angel and the hunter were whispering to each other. Aline knew what their conversation was about. It wasn’t the first time she had seen them talking to each other on a night like this, when there were no hunts to worry about.

“Can you find out what’s wrong?” Dean asked, a slightly worried note in his voice.

Aline was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes not focused on anything, but she could still hear him.

Castiel walked over to the brunette, hands outstretched. Aline’s head shot up as she felt her eyes flash black. Cas flew back into the wall, groaning in pain.

Dean quickly sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her. “He’s not gonna hurt you, I promise. We just wanna know what’s wrong.” His tone was gentle, soft, and reassuring.

That wasn’t why she had pushed him. She didn’t want him to know what was in her head, but she noticed the worried look in Dean’s hazel-green eyes and reluctantly nodded, feeling her eyes returning to their normal shade as she broke her hold on Cas.

The angel walked over to her. Aline grabbed Dean’s hand as she looked into Cas’s eyes, reluctantly letting him hear the thoughts that had been hopping, skipping, and jumping in her head for the past five months.

_It’s your fault. All your fault. If they hadn’t met you, he would still be alive._

Cas’s blue eyes widened.

“What?”

Aline shook her head rapidly, her eyes pleading.

“She’s depressed about Sam,” he replied, thankfully not saying what he heard.

She felt Dean stiffen at his brother’s name. The two of them hadn’t spoken since Sam left after they confronted War. Yet, she knew Dean missed him. He was probably more down than she was since he had taken care of him ever since their mom died.

To Aline, Sam wasn’t just the brother she never had. Up until she followed Dean to Hell four weeks after his death, the younger Winchester brother was her anchor. He kept her from raging on everything in her path when Dean had breathed his last. The only thing she had managed to destroy the night Dean died was a door.

Cas took a piece of paper and a pen, wrote something, folded the paper, and handed it to her. Aline stuffed it in the pocket of her shorts. Dean pulled her into his chest as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, not saying a word. She felt her cheeks heat up. It was something he hadn’t done in a while, and she took advantage of it.

He broke it minutes later. “Get some sleep, alright?”

Aline nodded as he stood up, already missing the contact. She pulled the covers back and slipped under them, pulling them back over her while she laid down. She heard Dean walk over to Cas, and the whispering began anew.

Aline pulled the angel’s note out of her shorts and opened it.

**Do not blame yourself for Sam’s death. It is not your fault.**

The words were neatly printed on the paper. She couldn’t stop the lone tear that escaped her eye before she shoved the note back into her shorts and closed her eyes. She knew he was wrong.

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

Aline glanced around the crossroad, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. She made the decision to do this two days ago, keeping it out of her thoughts whenever Cas was around. When she left, Dean & Cas were out interviewing the witnesses. She left a note, apologizing for the deal she was about to make.

Aline looked around. Where the hell was the—

“Look who we have here,” a male voice stated.

She turned around, spotting a man who looked to be in his early-thirties standing a few feet away from her. He had short brown hair and hazel eyes, which flashed red for just a second.

“I was wondering when I’d get to meet the famous Aline Peverell. You were lucky you had Dean to pull you out of the Pit.”

“Cut the crap,” Aline interrupted, her voice gravelly. She attempted, and succeeded, to keep her face passive.

“She speaks!” The crossroad demon raised an eyebrow. “Right to business then? Hopefully you won’t kill me like Sammy did with the one you made your first deal with.”

She glared at him, her eyes flashing at the mention of Sam. “I want to make a deal.”

The demon walked toward her. “To bring him back? Is that why you’re here?”

Aline shook her head. “I want you to take me back to Hell.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll find someone who will.”

He wagged a finger. “Very good threat there. I know how desperate you are, the thoughts running through your head. You caught Dean’s self-loathing in a bad way when Sam died.” He paused with a smirk. “You miss the Pit, don’t you? That’s the real reason you want to go back.”

She glared at the demon, feeling her eyes flash black as she grabbed his throat. “The only reason I want to go back is to protect Dean.”

He laughed. “You think you’ll be protecting him if you go back? You’ll just come out not remembering him at all and kill him without a second thought.”

She felt her heart stop as her eyes returned to normal before kissing him to seal the deal, letting him go. “Just take me back to the Pit.”

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

Aline screamed as the knife was dragged slowly along her midsection. It had been at least four weeks since the crossroad demon had taken her back to the Pit. Well, that was her guess when she wasn’t being tortured.

The demon torturing her leaned toward her ear and whispered, “This is what happens when you escape.”

The next cut was quick, and another scream escaped her lips as well as Dean’s name. It wasn’t the first time she had called out his name. She doubted it would be the last. The crossroad demon said she wouldn’t remember him by the time she came topside again. There was nothing telling her that it was true.

Another cut. Another scream. Sam’s name, this time.

A tear escaped her eye. Sam was dead. Killed in Detroit. He had been for four months, which was a small part of the reason she made the deal in the first place. She cared for Sam, definitely. She loved him like he was her own brother.

Another cut. Another scream. Cas’s name, causing the demon to freeze.

Castiel was the angel that pulled Dean out of Hell years ago. She doubted he would be able to do the same with her. Aline knew that she wasn’t important enough to the dickbag angels to be pulled out, which was why they practically threw a hissy-fit when Dean pulled her out. They didn’t trust her, and she didn’t trust them. Except for Gabriel and Cas. She trusted them like she trusted Sam and Dean.

More cuts, rapidly this time, one slicing her artery. Her world went black before everything became bright again. She knew what was going on. It wasn’t the first time this happened to her.

Aline laughed when she was together again. “Are they serious? They actually chose you to torture me?” she questioned, her voice coming out hoarse. It reminded her too much of Alastair. _Way_ too much. “You must be one of the ones that recently turned full-blown demon. No wonder you have such a short fuse.”

The demon’s eyes widened, making her hold back a smirk. She remembered her reputation before Dean got off the rack. Even though she had been in a coma for six months and couldn’t speak after she woke up again, she remembered. She knew exactly what she did, and she absolutely refused to tell Dean. Cas knew, of course. After all, he was the one who helped her remember.

She wasn’t much of a saint. Maybe that was why some of the angels despised her. Then again, the real answer to that had been staring her in the face ever since the seals broke:

They were afraid that she’d corrupt Dean.

If she wasn’t in Hell, Aline would laugh at the irony of that fear. She started to get more of Dean’s traits than he got of hers. Especially his self-loathing. The crossroad demon had made that point before she sealed the deal.

Dean corrupted her in his own way.

He helped her be human, at least before they both went to Hell. He helped her forget what she was, even after he found out. He sometimes called her an angel when he thought she was asleep, though she was far from it. They both knew it.

Between the two of them and Cas, the only real angel (both physically and mentally) was Cas.

The demon cut her again, and she screamed in pain, the process starting over again.

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

The man screamed as the butcher knife was dragged slowly across his stomach. The cut was deep, but not deep enough to knock him unconscious. She made sure to keep him alive because she knew he wouldn’t come back together again. This wasn’t Hell, she knew. The demon walked back over to the cart and wiped the blood off the knife with a towel she had bought earlier that day.

There were all kinds of blades on the cart, along with a carton of salt and a box of matches. There was also a pickaxe, but she told herself she wouldn’t use it unless the guy pissed her off. Of course, that was pretty hard to do, in her opinion at least. It had been easier to get her angry in the Pit. Even the other demons knew not to cross her when she was in one of her bad moods. So, the pickaxe was a last resort.

She tightened her ponytail with one hand while the other grazed over the instruments on the cart before settling on the switchblade, dragging the cart over to her victim.

He had deep cuts and slight scratches all over his body, his clothes tattered and torn. He was tied to a table that had been left in the building. His torture had been quick and not so painful at first (he had still screamed, of course), but now she had slowed down until her pace became methodical.

“P-p-please!” the man begged, his voice hoarse from screaming. “I-I-I’ll give you anything if you let me go!”

She hushed him. “I would say I’m sorry, but you should know it’s not true. You’re the one who walked out of the bar with me. So, you have no one to blame but yourself. As for letting you go, I have no intention of letting a cheating bastard leave without a scratch.”

“H-h-how—”

She scoffed. “Please. You honestly think I’m so stupid not to notice the ring on your finger? You deserve everything you’re getting. Now, open wide, _sweetie.”_

The man shook his head, keeping his flirting mouth shut for once.

“You’re really testing my patience, _love._ Open your mouth.”

Another head shake, causing the demon to dump salt on his wounds. The man tried, and failed, to hold in the scream of pain, his mouth opening.

She grinned maliciously as she set the salt back on the cart and grabbed the pliers, pulling his tongue out with them. The demon pulled the blade out and placed it next to his tongue.

“Trust me, _darling._ This won’t hurt…much.”

The moment the knife started moving up and down to saw his tongue off, his screams grew louder as he tried desperately to get it back into his mouth, but to no avail. As soon as the appendage was disconnected from his mouth, she placed it, along with the pliers and switchblade, on the cart, not bothering to wipe his blood off her hands.

The coppery liquid was trailing down his chin and onto his almost bare chest as he screamed and attempted to spit it out of his mouth.

The moment she heard the door behind her creak open, she picked up the pickaxe and leaned toward his ear. “I’m glad we spent this time together, _sweetheart,_ but I’m afraid it’s time to say goodbye.” She rubbed her bloody fingers on her lips and kissed him, leaving a bloody lip-stain on his cheek. She felt him shaking in fear before swinging the pickaxe and hitting the top of his head, stopping his shaking. The demon yanked the now-bloody weapon out and set it on the cart, not turning to see who had come.

She knew, as she picked up the salt again, that it wasn’t rats or any other animal. The brunette felt as if she was being watched as she poured salt over the corpse before setting the carton back on the cart and picking up the matches. The box slid open, and she pulled one out, striking it against the rough side. Once it was lit, the demon tossed the match onto the body, watching it as it lit up in flames. The way she took care of the bodies once she came topside reminded her of her life as a human, what she had done for a living.

The demon mentally shook herself out of her reverie and called out, “You don’t have to hide, you know. I already know you’re here. Just come out already.”

She heard the floor creak as whoever was watching her come out of their hiding place.

“You’re one sick bitch, you know that?” a deep male voice stated coldly.

The demon froze slightly. Only slightly. She would recognize that voice anywhere. “I guess that means I was a sick human being, don’t you think?”

“Nah. You were probably a better human.”

“I wouldn’t bother with the exorcism.” She walked over to the cart, keeping her back to the man. “No one was home when I came knocking. I had to dig myself out of her grave.”

“I guess this isn’t your first rodeo.”

She shook her head as she picked up the towel, wiping the blood off her hands and lips. “First time I’ve been topside in…three years. Anything really new?”

“Well, world’s been in the crapper for a year thanks to you bastards. Monsters are roaming the earth.”

“Don’t pin the blame on me. Besides, monsters were already walking when I left.”

“Not Croats.”

She froze again. “Croatoan virus?”

“Yeah. How’d you know about it?”

“I saw it firsthand before I went to Hell. With a couple friends of mine.”

“Really?” He sounded nervous, like he wasn’t sure what he was hearing.

The demon nodded. “Yeah. Brothers. One of ‘em’s dead, though. Not sure about the other. I haven’t seen him since the day I left.” She paused. “You’re actually going against someone like me alone?”

“Yeah. I’ve dealt with you sons of bitches before the world went to hell. Turn around.”

She shrugged and did as he asked. “As you wish.” The moment she was facing him, she noticed how different the man in front of her looked than the one she remembered. He looked more serious and more weight looked to be on his shoulders than before. His cold hazel-green eyes widened in shock.

“A-Aline?” he asked, an unsure note in his voice.

Aline smiled softly as she nodded. “Hey Dean.”

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

It had been almost two years since Aline came out of Hell and Dean finding her. After giving her a Bobby-worthy talking to and slapping her silly, he filled her in on everything that had happened since she left. She remembered the shocked look on Cas’s face when he saw her again when she and Dean arrived at Camp Chitaqua. When it changed to sadness after she told him she barely remembered him, Aline couldn’t resist hugging the now-human Castiel.

Even though she proved she was herself, despite the fact she wasn’t really human anymore (in her old body, no less), Dean refused to actually speak to her like he used to until the beginning of 2014, which Aline really despised more than anything. Still, he had forcefully dragged her away from the men who shamelessly flirted with her in front of him before sending her to do a mission. She had noticed something in his eyes that slightly shined through his normally-hardened eyes.

Right now, Aline was in one of her bad moods, and her pickaxe was in her hand. Risa had claimed that Dean spent the night in Jane’s cabin the night before.

As far as Aline was concerned, Risa should be thanking her for not bashing the pickaxe into her skull.

The brunette decided not to bother Cas, thinking the fallen angel was probably having fun with the other women or getting stoned. At that moment, she was stomping toward Dean’s cabin, wanting to find out the truth. Yeah, Dean was a dick, but he had his moments where he showed that he actually gave a crap about what happened to her unlike Risa. Cas was the second person who gave a crap about her, and that was all the time, even when he was stoned.

“If it’s true,” she muttered under her breath, “just suck it up and take it, Ally.”

Chuck had told her that Dean ordered that no one bother him, but, in the mood Aline was in, she didn’t give a crap about his orders. Normally, she followed what he said to the letter and without question, especially after she had been almost killed by Croats last year. She reminded herself of how Dean used to be before John died.

Once she was at Dean’s door, she knocked in a way only Dean would know it was her.

“Who’s that?” she heard a familiar voice ask.

“Just sit there and keep quiet,” she heard Dean whisper, his footsteps heading toward the door. Her eyes locked on his hazel-green ones the moment he opened the door. His expression softened somewhat, like it always did when he looked at her. “I thought I told Chuck not to let anyone disturb me.”

Aline rolled her eyes. “I’m so sorry, _your highness._ I just wanted to see if Risa was telling the truth,” she responded, her grip on the pickaxe tightening.

“Since when do you believe what she says?”

“When she says you spent the night in Jane’s cabin last night.”

“Why do you care so much about who I sleep with?”

“Why do you care so much when guys flirt with me?”

He didn’t respond, instead opening the door wider to let her in. Once she was inside, he shut the door behind her. “What kind of question was that?”

“A damn good one. Dean, you practically drag me away from guys that flirt with me. That was when you refused to talk to me like you used to.”

“You changed.”

“So did you, and you don’t see me complain about it.”

“You don’t complain about it.”

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t.”

He laughed humorlessly. “You complain to Cas about me, though.”

Aline walked across the room to the table where the guns were lying. “What I talk about with Cas is _my_ business, not yours.”

Dean stomped over to her, turning her around to face him. “It is my business when you’re talking about me behind my back.” His hazel-green eyes were cold and hard, soldier-mode she called it. “If you have a problem with me, say it to my face.”

She raised the pickaxe so it was in his face. “I could do it, you know.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” She knew she threatened him with it almost all the time, but she never followed through with it, knowing she would be hurting herself in the process.

Dean shook his head. “You’d be breaking your promise to me, though.”

Aline froze, but she didn’t let it show on her face as he grabbed the hand that held the pickaxe. This was something he had never mentioned before. Usually, he would just glare at her and walk away, not saying anything to her at all unless he absolutely had to.

“I was awake when you told me you’d never hurt me. Ever. When _he_ offered you the chance to do it, you didn’t. You saw something in my eyes that made you stop and stand in front of me, protectively I might add, telling him to dip his offer in holy salt water and drink it.” He moved his face close to hers, causing her to blush. “I may have been in a hell of a lot of pain, but that is the one thing I remember very clearly.”

She could feel his hot breath on her cheeks, her blush darkening.

“I just want to know why you couldn’t.”

“It’s pretty damn obvious. Well, it should be.”

“Tell me then.” It was an order, and they both knew it.

Aline felt more heat rise to her cheeks as she moved her lips close to his. “I’ll show you.” She then planted a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away and moving to whisper what she had been keeping to herself for so long in his ear. Before she could say anything, Dean grabbed her face and pulled her lips back to his, the hunter initiating the kiss this time. The pickaxe fell out of her hand and clattered onto the floor before she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

Before they could go any further, she heard someone clear their throat. Dean pulled away and glared behind him. Aline gave him a questioning glance.

“As much as I love watching myself make out with another girl, mind introducing us?” a familiar male voice inquired.

She peered over Dean’s shoulder and saw another Dean. This one was wearing a blue jacket instead of the military-issue green jacket the one beside her wore, and he was handcuffed to a ladder. He looked like he had a lot less weight on his shoulders.

“What the hell?” she whispered, glancing between both Deans. “He’s not a—”

Dean shook his head. “I did the drill while he was out,” he responded, still glaring at past-Dean. “I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut.”

“You know I sometimes don’t listen to myself,” he told him. “Now, who’s the chick?”

Aline walked over to him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t recognize me,” she stated, kneeling in front of him.

His eyes widened. “Aline! What the hell happened to you?”

“He tell you about what happened to Sam?”

She noticed the sadness in his eyes as he nodded.

“That’s what happened to me.”

“Don’t forget the stunt you pulled four years ago,” Dean reminded her, his voice cracking slightly.

Past-Dean looked at her with an expression that was filled with confusion and worry. “What stunt?”

The brunette sighed. “Five months after Sam died, I summoned a crossroad demon. Asked him to take me back to the Pit.”

Past-Dean’s eyes flashed angrily. “I thought I told you you’re not going back there!”

Aline sat on the floor, feeling the tears that hadn’t fallen in four years threaten to do so. “What was I supposed to do?” she shouted, sounding close to tears. “I blamed myself for what happened to Sam. I thought that if you hadn’t met me, he would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” She then told both Deans how she couldn’t speak, eat, or drink for five months after Sam’s death. How she had been tortured for the first five years she was back in Hell for escaping before becoming a full-demon. How Dean had found her again after her three years in the Pit. How much she remembered from being human (which only included Dean). Everything. She hadn’t noticed that she was crying until she was finished with her story. Aline wiped the tears from her eyes before looking at past-Dean. “Don’t let this happen when you go back. Please.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he responded.

“And, if you see past me asking Cas to help me remember what I did for the last 28 years while you were on the rack, stop me.”

“What will happen if I don’t?”

“I was in a coma for six months because of it, but I remembered what I did. When I woke up again, I couldn’t talk for five or six days.”

Past-Dean put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “I promise I won’t let that happen. Just one quick question about that time Sam and I saw you having dream sex with someone. Who was it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Pervert.”

“That’s why you stay, though.”

The brunette laughed. “Dick.”

“Ass.”

They both laughed for a few minutes. It felt nice to laugh with Dean, even if it was with one that was a few years younger than the one she knew. Aline raised her hands up in mock surrender. “Since you asked, it was you.”

He slapped his knee. “I knew it! I just knew it!”

“What year are you from anyway?”

“2009. Tail end.”

“How’d you get here?”

Past-Dean looked annoyed. “Zachariah.”

Aline clenched her fists at the angel’s name, feeling her eyes flash black. “That bag of dicks?”

He nodded as Dean zipped up the bag on the table, causing past-Dean to look up at him. “Where you going?”

“I got to run an errand,” she heard Dean reply.

“Whoa. You’re just gonna leave me here?”

“Yes. I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need to see is a version of _The Parent Trap._ So, yeah, you stay locked down.”

“Dean,” Aline stated, turning to face him.

He looked over at her, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Take my pickaxe. Just in case.”

“You sure 'bout that? I could salt-and-burn it, you know.” She could hear a slight teasing note in his voice.

Aline grinned. “You wouldn’t, darlin’.”

Dean raised a brow as he picked up the pickaxe. _“Darlin’?”_

“What else should I call you since apparently you feel the same way I do?”

“How about what you usually call me?”

“You mean dick?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t see anything wrong with it, ass.”

“Is this just gonna be between us and Cas or…”

Dean shoved the pickaxe into the bag and slung it on his shoulder before walking over to her and slipping something into her hand. “I want everyone to know about us.” She could hear the possessive note in his voice.

Her grin changed to a full-blown smirk. “I get all tingly when you get possessive like that.”

Dean kissed the top of her head before walking over to the door, a slight smile on his face.

“But you don’t have to cuff me, man,” past-Dean stated, also with a slight smile on his face. “Oh, come on. You don’t trust yourself?” He turned his head to face Dean.

Dean shook his head as his smile faded, his hand on the door knob. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Be careful, Dean,” Aline stated.

“I always am, Ally, and you know it.” He opened the door and left.

She looked back at past-Dean.

“Dick,” he stated, looking away from the door.

Aline opened her hand and saw his ring, only it had her initials engraved on the inside. Aline guessed that he had it made for her the day she went back to the Pit. She slipped it on her finger with a smile on her face.


	3. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aline struggles with her cravings, and Dean helps her as best he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the implied torture warning comes in. You'll see what I mean.

Famine was a bitch.

Sam was dealing with his demon blood addiction again.

Cas was eating burgers or some other kind of red meat like a madman.

Dean was perfectly fine. Lucky bastard.

Aline, on the other hand, was trying to hold back two cravings. Yeah, two.

And it was getting harder to do the longer Famine wasn’t dealt with.

Her love and lust for Dean was one of them. The second craving made her snap at Sam and Cas whenever they’d ask if she was fine and her eyes flash black. She was even short with witnesses, even threatening them if they didn’t talk.

Dean was the only one besides herself that knew what this craving was and understood it. The fact that she even wanted this scared her to death.

Mix her two cravings together (whenever a woman got even glanced at Dean) and you’ve got a problem that comes a close second to the apocalypse.

She satisfied the second craving once every night, no matter how much it sickened her to do so. Only because there were times she wanted to do it to Sam and Cas. The images just wouldn’t leave her head no matter how hard she tried.

 _“Deal with it. It’s a fact of nature,”_ her dad would say. That is, if he was still alive.

Then again, dear old Dad was the dad from Hell. Literally.

Later, she’d find it funny that Sam and Cas knew about her craving and love for Dean while Dean knew her second craving. (If you wanna get technical, Dean knew about the fact that she was craving him, but he only thought she was lusting after him like in Hell.)

Right now, though, it wasn’t that funny.

The longer it took to deal with Famine, the less her nighttime sessions helped soothe the craving, and the images of Sam and Cas grew more vivid. She never told Dean that, though. He had enough on his plate as it was, in her opinion.

So she began starting verbal fights with Sam, pushing buttons she knew would hurt him more than anything. Dean and Cas were the ones who separated them, Cas grabbing Sam and Dean grabbing Aline.

It was after one of those fights that Dean took Aline to a bar close by. Luckily, there weren’t any women there that would steal his attention. They sat down at the counter, ordering their usual drinks.

“We both know you didn’t mean it,” Dean began. “You never do.”

Aline sighed, running her fingers over her hair. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dean,” she stated, looking down at the wood and drawing random symbols on it with her finger.

He grabbed her face with one of his calloused hands and gently lifted her head so she could look into his eyes. “How about the truth? You and I know what you do at night. Hell, I’ve even gone with you and watched. Is it helping? Be honest with me here.”

She bit her lip thoughtfully while practically sighing into his touch. “Right now? Barely. I still imagine it’s Sam and Cas. Every time I look at one of them, I see…” She trailed off and looked away, not wanting to go into detail.

He took her hand and, after paying their tab, led her outside. “What do you see, sweetheart?”

She took a shaky breath before responding. “When I look at Cas, I see him tied to a rack, his wings hanging up with clothespins. He’s glaring at me, but there’s a pleading look in his eyes that begs me to just wake up and take him down.” She paused, sniffling. “I don’t. I start the same place we usually do, but with holy fire instead of a knife. I slice and carve for I don’t know how long until I see his wings. They’re really pretty. He’s begging me to stop when I pick up…” She stopped, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her voice was shaky. “…and I pluck each of his feathers before…before…”

Dean pulled her into his arms and let her cry into his chest, kissing the top of her head. “It’s alright. We’re gonna get send Famine back to where he belongs. Just you and me.”

Aline sniffed and looked up at him. “Are you sure? I mean, my cravings…he might…”

He wiped one of her tears away with his thumb. “We promised we wouldn’t do that to each other, remember? Besides, we’ve got our question.”

That was true. In Hell, Alastair made them see each other as the person they wanted to hurt most four times just to see if they’d turn on each other. It almost worked the first time, since Aline saw Dean as her dad while Dean saw her as Azazel. The illusion had shattered for two seconds, but they’d been able to stop each other in time. After that, the two of them had decided on the code that would let them know that what they were seeing was an illusion. This was another thing they didn’t tell Sam about.

She nodded with a smile, wiping her tears away. “Until then, I think we should book another room. Far away from Sam and Cas.”

Dean smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, sweetheart?”

She blushed at the insinuation before rapidly shaking her head. “I don’t wanna hurt Sam and Cas, you know? Plus, I don’t think I can be away from you for longer than a minute now.”

“You do make a good point there.” He kept his arm around her, and the two of them walked back to the motel.

She thought about telling him the real reason why she was craving him, but she kept her mouth shut, content with their friendship.

Even thought it had changed since Hell, she was content with being his friend than nothing.


	4. Emergencia de Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aline sings one of her favorite songs to Dean. Apparently, he likes it, a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs mentioned are "Llamada de Emergencia" by Daddy Yankee & "The Death and Resurrection Show" by Killing Joke. I guess you could say it’s somewhat based on an imagine from Dirty Supernatural Imagines, but not really. There is a heavy makeout session right before the last chorus, but that’s as much as I wrote. I’m more of a smut reader than writer. Hope you like it!

The Winchesters and Aline were taking a much-needed vacation following a case that was both physically and mentally exhausting. Dean had rented a cabin in the middle of the woods by a lake so he and Sam could try their hand at fishing, and any one of them could go swimming.

The end of the world, demons, and angels would have to wait because the Winchesters were taking the week off.

Aline, of course, had set some ground rules on the drive there (which kinda bugged Dean a bit): No looking for cases, no loading or cleaning guns, no sneaking off in any time of the day, or even looking into a way to avoid the Apocalypse. Anyone who broke those rules would be thrown into the lake. Both brothers agreed to the rules.

Right now, both boys were out fishing, which they had gotten very good at. Aline was inside, sitting on her bed and watching episodes from her favorite TV show that she had missed. Sam and Dean were still out fishing when she got all caught up, leaving her with nothing to do. So, she opened up iTunes and put her music on shuffle, singing along when there were lyrics to be sung and skipping different songs she didn’t feel like listening to. She took a sip from her glass of cherry Pepsi she had poured for herself before sitting down to catch up on her show. The bottle of soda was currently in the fridge, and she had bought it before they came up to the cabin, writing her name, initials, and “Don’t touch” all over it with a Sharpie.

The door opened when Daddy Yankee’s “Llamada de Emergencia” popped up, getting a happy squeal from Aline. She hadn’t pressed play yet, but she was about to when she heard the sound of the fridge opening up. She set her laptop down on the bed, got up, and glanced over into the kitchen, noticing it was only Dean. He was bending down to grab a couple beers for himself and Sam.

“Hey,” she called out, catching his attention while he stood up straight with the beers in hand.

“Hey,” he stated. “What’s with the squeal?”

She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well…”

“Come on. You can tell me. That couple you like get together?”

“No. One of my favorite songs popped up on my shuffle.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded, blushing a bit while she looked everywhere but his eyes. “If you want, you could listen to it with me.”

“Sure. Just let me give Sammy his beer and I’ll be right back.” He handed her one of the beers and walked out the door to give the other to Sam.

She ran her fingers through her hair nervously as she went back over to sit on her bed. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if Dean would even like the song. Yeah, she knew he _really_ liked that Spanish porno, but there was always a slight chance he wouldn’t like “Llamada de Emergencia.”

A few minutes passed by and Dean came back just like he said he would, sitting down next to her on her bed after shutting the door. “So, what’s the name of this song you like so much?”

“Emergency Call.”

“Sounds like a pretty interesting name for a song.”

“That’s what it translates to, actually.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s the original name of the song?”

“'Llamada de Emergencia.‘”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “Spanish song? Didn’t think you liked them.”

“Yeah, I do. Just Daddy Yankee, though. That’s who sings 'Llamada de Emergencia.'”

He cleared his throat. “Sing it for me?”

Her cheeks were absolutely burning up while she looked at her laptop. She had only sung to him twice. Yeah, she liked singing to him, but singing one of her favorite Daddy Yankee songs?

As if sensing her discomfort, Dean put his hand on her leg, rubbing it reassuringly. “Please? Besides, you have a beautiful voice, Ally. It’s just me and you.”

She cleared her throat and nodded once, pressing play. She drummed along to the intro before she began singing.

“ _Ven y sana mi dolor… Tienes la cura de este amor…_  
Hago este llamado para que tu vuelvas  
Tú no ves que estoy sufriendo, es muy duro esta prueba.

 _Hay un hombre moribundo aquí, dime quien lo puede revivir._  
Hay un hombre moribundo aquí, dime quien lo puede revivir.  
Tú tienes la receta, la fórmula secreta,  
para poner en ritmo mi corazón…  
No existe medicina, doctores ni aspirina  
Para el dolor que siente mi corazón…”

She really started to get into the song, putting her laptop on the table while turning her whole body to face Dean. She even started doing hand motions, putting her hands over her heart. She noticed his jaw clench as she continued singing and dancing.

“ _Casi no siento mi palpitos_  
Al rescate que venga la paramédico,  
Necesito que me des un electro shock,  
ehh de tu calor  
Un suero de cariño es lo que me toca,  
quiero que me des respiracíon boca a boca,  
Y que la camilla sea nuestra camita,  
hay un hombre caído que a ti te necesita,  
'hay hombre.’

 _Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido,_  
Es un llamado de emergencia baby,  
Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido…

 _Ven y sana mi dolor… Tienes la cura de este amor…_  
Hago este llamado para que tu vuelvas  
Tú no ves que estoy sufriendo, es muy duro esta prueba.”

He grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her chest, dragging her towards him to rest on top of him. She could feel his growing erection through his jeans, realizing that he got turned on by Spanish. She leaned toward his ear and whisper-sang the next verse, nibbling between each line.

“ _Abrázame y dime que me amas Abrázame…y dime que me amas_  
Quédate…(hey y dale alivio a  
mi alma, inyéctale calma) quédate..  
Que tu no ves que por tu amor y me muero ma’  
Sin ti mi camino se desaparece  
Sin ti las espinas son las que florecen  
Sin ti yo no vivo sin ti no se escribe la historia del amor  
Sin ti mi poema se queda sin verso  
Sin ti no ilumina la estrella en mi universo  
mis signos vitales van disminuyendo, ven por favor…

 _Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido,_  
Es un llamado de emergencia baby,  
Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido…”

Before she could even get the last chorus out, he grabbed her face and pulled her in for a desperate kiss, Daddy Yankee taking the last lines on his own as she kissed Dean back.

 _Ven y sana mi dolor… Tienes la cura de este amor…_  
Hago este llamado para que tu vuelvas  
Tú no ves que estoy sufriendo, es muy duro que esta prueba.

 _Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido…_  
Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido…  
Ven aquí rápido, ven aquí rápido…

While the song finished, Dean’s hand moved up her shirt, grazing her chest as she placed her laptop on the bedside table so it wouldn’t break. Eventually, it was replaced by “The Death and Resurrection Show” by Killing Joke, but neither of them were really paying attention to that.


End file.
